


Harry Loves Ginny

by lamerezouille



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-12
Updated: 2012-11-12
Packaged: 2017-11-16 21:22:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamerezouille/pseuds/lamerezouille
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry loved Ginny. Draco was not just sure of it, he <i>knew</i> it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry Loves Ginny

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by [](http://tigersilver.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://tigersilver.livejournal.com/)**tigersilver** (she doesn’t want me to say she did it, but really, she did – there were things that just didn’t make any sense before she looked into it) Also, there is a line in the end which is inspired by a line in the movie "Love Songs" (which is a very good and beautiful and sad and hopeful movie; you should see it, everybody should see it) - it was said by the director that the line in question came from some kind of Jewish proverb, but I felt I should credit the movie anyway.

Harry loved Ginny.

No, really.

That Harry Potter loved Ginny and was _in love_ with her for ever was something Draco was not just sure of, it was something he _knew_. The real mystery was why Ginny had stopped loving Harry back. Something also Draco found himself wondering much often about was if she had ever loved Harry as much as the Boy Who Lived still loved her.

Once upon a time, Harry and Ginny really had seemed like the Wizarding World’s golden couple. As far as Draco knew, they had gotten together in Sixth year and right after Harry had done his deed, so to say, they got back together in all their glory. At that time, it had been the last thing on Draco’s mind, really. He himself was busy staying out of Azkaban for war-related offences and the Great Saviour’s love life never even crossed his mind once. Looking back, Draco couldn’t help but think those were good times.

Then, he was released and cleared of all charges, mainly thanks to Professor McGonagall’s testimony of his state of desolation when walking Hogwarts’s corridors Seventh year. Anyone who knew him even a little bit knew that how he’d acted that year was clear proof that any crime he had committed when home for holidays had been against his will. Funnily enough, during his trial, Draco expected Potter to show up and save the day. After all, the git had saved his life so he must have thought Draco was worth something. He could have come before Draco’s Wizengamot audience and testified that Draco had refused to identify him, the time he had visited the Manor, but Mr Potter had been much too enthralled by his blooming relationship with Ginny Weasley to notice anything else going in the world. Thank God, Minerva McGonagall was so observant and too, had managed not to kick the bucket during the Battle of Hogwarts.

For the few years after that, life had been rough with him and between trying to find a job and a new meaning to his life, Draco didn’t have so much time to listen to the gossip mill and be aware that there was being trouble in paradise for the Potter-Weasley conjunction. He hadn’t known until later that Ginny had left Harry, that she didn’t want to marry him nor bear his children – that she didn’t want to marry anybody, really. Why she spent several years making Harry believe she was going to be The One for him was anybody’s guess. What was sure was that from one day to the next, the Romance Of The Century had been declared officially over.

As Draco saw it, it was because Ginny Weasley was independent, intrinsically so. Way too much so to live any ‘happily ever after’, be it with Harry Potter or anyone else. She liked sex too much, too, but who was Draco to judge? She hadn’t even cheated on her then boyfriend, so that couldn’t be held against her, even if ever since the Great Breaking of Harry Potter’s Heart she’d been seen escaping to a ‘more private place’ with more men than Draco could care to count. After all, Draco knew how she’d been at Hogwarts before dating Harry, so he expected the git would have known, too. But, if he had, he’d never let it show, and the state she left him in was quite something.

For one year after their break-up, Harry had just done nothing. Well, Draco supposed he did _some_ things, like sleeping, and eating, and brushing his teeth, but nothing of interest, really – he was too preoccupied wallowing in self-pity. Ginny, for her part, didn’t find time to get bored. After leaving her career as a Quidditch star (officially because of a wrist injury, but Draco strongly suspected she was just finished assessing the sexual prowess of her team-mates’ and wanted to do something different), she bought the Three Broomsticks, following Madam Rosmerta’s retirement, and changed it into the trendiest bar this side of the Wizarding world. She picked men to go to her rooms quite regularly and had become as much as an attraction as the various rock bands performing at this new 2.0 version of the Three Broomsticks.

Then, after that, though Draco didn’t really know how the time-continuity went exactly, someone convinced Harry to go back in the real world, and he landed on a stool in front of Ginny’s bar. She offered him a drink and they talked. That’s the night they became friends again.

The problem, Draco knew, was that Harry was still in love with Ginny. As much as she wasn’t. Why was this of interest for Draco? Well, that was another story. A story that maybe began with his father’s allegiance to the Dark Lord, but could be as easily traced if the starting point taken instead was Minerva McGonagall, and the fact that – in Draco’s humble opinion – she was some kind of angel/goddess turned Witch.

After his trial and subsequent failure to find a place in the Wizarding world, Minerva McGonagall was the reason why Draco didn’t give up on life. She took him under her wing and not only trained him and gave him a job, but Draco genuinely thought she made him a better person. Now, thanks to her, Draco Malfoy was Hogwarts’s somewhat respected Potions Master and not only had a monthly wage and a roof, but also some kind of self-esteem. Professor McGonagall was just too good for him. Well, he wasn’t the only one to be the recipient of the goodness of her heart because, soon after the readers of the Daily Prophet had discovered that Harry Potter was in fact still alive and in good health, she offered him a position in Hogwarts’s staff as well.

That had been hard for Draco. Even if McGonagall managed to mellow Draco and make him no longer hate Potter, it didn’t mean that he liked him any more. For the first months of their simultaneous presence at Hogwarts they were childish toward each other and pouted and fought and scowled, but at some point they both became aware that they were the only teachers under thirty and that ten months out of twelve without anyone their own age to talk to could feel quite lonesome. So, they buried the hatchet and started first to acknowledge each other as colleagues. Then, they started to respect each other. One day, without seeing it coming, Draco realised that he _esteemed_ Harry Potter. That was quite a shock.

Then they even asked to chaperone Hogsmeade weekends together and they went for a pint at the Three Broomsticks. Draco had thought that would be awkward but, even if he could see in his eyes that Harry was still besotted with their barmaid, the mood was relaxed. Ginny chatted with them and they laughed. They started then to make a habit out of it. Ginny would or wouldn’t be there and they’d never get bored either way. They spent more and more time together until one day Draco couldn’t do anything else but conclude that he had become friends with Harry Potter.

The day he had known that not only he was Harry’s friend but also that Harry was _his_ , was the day Harry discovered Draco was gay. Draco had never intended to hide it or anything, but it just wasn’t something he wanted to publicise and he didn’t think it was anyone’s but his and his lovers’ business, anyway. The event took place at the Three Broomsticks. A former one-night-stand came over to their table and asked him why he hadn’t answered to his Owl. Draco gaven his usual dismissal to this kind of question and when the boy departed, tail between his legs, Draco realised that maybe Harry might want some kind of explanation. He was ready to provide some kind of official coming-out speech when Harry simply said, with a smile and a glass raised: ‘Oh. So you’re like Ginny but as a guy, then? Here’s to that!’

Draco didn’t know what to say to that, so he just clinked glasses and downed his Firewhisky. He realised, shortly after that, that as much as he could admit to liking Ginny, he didn’t like being compared to her. Especially not by Harry. But, at the same time, he knew as well that Harry would always be there for him, the same way he was for Granger and the other more hairy Weasley, so he couldn’t hold it against Harry to think of him as some kind of male Ginny, because he knew what mattered was that by saying that, Harry was accepting him as he was and that he was never going to judge Draco.

So yes, Harry and Draco were friends. And the more they were friends, the more Draco wondered why they hadn’t been sooner. It was so easy being friends with Harry. He was funny and honest and much more intelligent than Draco had given him credit for back at school. Things were going very well between them and Draco had never been this happy.

And then he fell in love with Harry Potter. Well, to be quite accurate, Draco didn’t really know what falling in love with someone was and he couldn’t be sure it was exactly what had happened to him, but he was quite certain that not only his feelings for Harry had evolved past friendship, but mostly that he had never felt like that for any one else before. Draco really hated that it had to be Harry he was in love with, because Harry was the best friend he’d ever had and he was enough of a realist to know that that couldn’t last if Draco was in love with him. And then there was the fact that Harry was straight and that fact got reasserted every time Harry’s eyes localised on Ginny. Draco had reached a stage where he didn’t even know if the fact that Harry was so in love with Ginny made it worse for him or not.

Yes, Harry was nice to look at. Yes, his arse had attracted Draco’s attention at a very early stage. Yes, his eyes were so green it shouldn’t be allowed. But, that didn’t explain why Draco had to feel how he felt. There were a lot of guys he’d had sex with that were that gorgeous, but he had never felt the need to do something as foolish as fall in love with them. Certainly it was the mix of this glorious package with all these friendship-feelings. _That_ was what had confused Draco to the point of no return. But, there had to be something more to it, because Draco knew that if having a gorgeous best friend was enough to fall in love, it would no doubt be publicised in some way or other – it could get very dangerous, after all, if everyone did that.

Draco, however, was a very practical man and he knew that there was no use denying his feelings, because if they were to ever go away they’d do it on their own and there was nothing _he_ could do about it. That was what made him wonder once again why Ginny had stopped loving Harry, or how she had even been able to. Because in the state where he was, he knew there was no cure and that Harry was just perfect _that_ way. The only reason why Ginny would stop being in love with Harry so abruptly was because she’d never really been in love with him in the first place. If Draco had been able to have Harry the way she’d had him, he was sure he’d never have let him go.

*  
* *  


So, that night Draco was in the Three Broomsticks, of all places, drinking his sorrow alone and failing at not thinking of Harry. Harry hadn’t wanted to come with him for some fake reason he had made up on the spot and Draco knew it was because this particular day was the anniversary of the Big Break-Up. The fact that Harry needed to mourn that day was what had convinced Draco to let go of his principle of never drinking alone.

‘So what’s your problem?’ came a voice, from not so far away.

‘Who says I’ve got a problem?’ Draco knew he would have had better repartee had he not drunk three glasses of Firewhisky already.

‘Well,’ continued the voice, which revealed itself to be Ginny’s, ‘it’s Saturday night and, apart from the fact that you’re drinking yourself to sleep, you’re alone in a straight pub.’

‘Maybe I want to try and get your clients to bat for my team...’ Draco replied, not very convincingly.

‘Given all the alcohol already in your body, I’d say you just came here to get plastered,’ she said, way too wisely for Draco’s taste. ‘And I’ve begun to know the real you, Draco Malfoy. The only reason you’d do that alone is that you’ve got a problem.’

‘Well,’ Draco started, much more honestly than he’d have wished, ‘last night I went home with this guy. Hot as hell; one of the best arses ever.’

‘I can picture that,’ Ginny said, with a grin that Draco wasn’t so sure he liked.

‘He wanted us to do that again some time,’ Draco said, as if the remark had been some kind of Dementor’s kiss.

‘So what? You sent him flying, yeah?’ She didn’t really _ask_ it so much as state it, as obviously, for her, there was no other possibility than that. Draco still nodded, with what he knew was a particularly miserable look on his face.

‘I don’t get it,’ she was frowning, ‘was it the first time something like that happened to you?’ She snorted and rolled her eyes. ‘Are gay men so much less clingy than straight ones?’

Draco smiled a little at that and then felt guilty practically right away, because that must be how she thought of Harry, and Draco knew that it would hurt him. ‘No, it really wasn’t the first time I had to get rid of someone,’ he explained, ‘but it was the first time I did it even though I wouldn’t have minded another round that much.’ Ginny did look puzzled, so he went on, even if he wished he didn’t have to. ‘I threw him out anyway because I’m in love with someone else and I realised that being in love with this person kept me from wanting to have sex with gorgeous men.’

There was a silence after that. It could have been funny, but the sorrow in Draco’s voice was such that Ginny just looked ill at ease. It was clear when she’d asked him what his problem was that she hadn’t expected him to pour his heart out.

‘It’s Harry,’ Draco added, because now he had begun, he needed to finish telling her everything, even if she was Ginny – _Harry’s_ Ginny – and that it couldn’t get more awkward. ‘It’s Harry I’m in love with.’

She didn’t answer for quite some time and, while Draco kept on drinking, he almost forgot she was still there. ‘This _is_ a problem,’ she said, eventually. ‘Because I can tell you on the best authority possible that Harry likes women very much.’

‘He doesn’t like _women_ , Ginny,’ Draco replied, as if offended. ‘He likes _you_. And he’s there, waiting for you, dying a little more every time he sees you going upstairs with another guy. And I think I’m starting to fall into his abyss with him, because every time he hurts, _I_ hurt. _That_ is my real problem.’

‘What d’you want me to do, Draco? Harry knows where we stand, and he’s known it for a long time now, from the first time he ordered a Butterbeer on this very stool. And, even if I was in love with him once, he knows we don’t want the same thing; he knows things have changed. He knows I won’t ever love him like he wants me to.’

She was getting angry with Draco, now. But it wasn’t Draco’s fault; it never had been, and now he’d been caught in the trap of their fucked-up relationship and there was nothing he could do.

‘Maybe once upon a time, that would have been a good excuse, Ginny. But you made him believe,’ he accused her. ‘You had a relationship with him, a long-lasting one at that. You were all but fucking _engaged_! And now, when he sees you with a different guy every night, he can’t help but think that what you had together was more than that, that it was real, and that if you’re not able to have a relationship with anybody else then it means he was the one for you, and he’s just waiting for you to realise that.’

At the end of his speech Ginny was positively glaring at him and he did fear she was going to draw out her wand and do something about it. Instead of that, though, she opened her mouth and said, very slowly, ‘I’m gonna act as if you’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re saying. Because, against my better judgement, I’ve grown to like you and I’m willing to let it go. But know one thing, Draco Malfoy: I’m not this cruel person you’re describing. I _did_ love him and I genuinely wanted it to work. I genuinely wanted him to have what he’d wanted all his life and what this Voldemort crap kept him away from. So, don’t you dare say it’s all my fault, because I don’t know how you being in love with him is gonna help. You’re the closest friend he has here and he needs you to hold on to, in his everyday life, when things get rough. He doesn’t need you to act like a besotted fool and attack me for no reason.’

Draco was ready to retort that _she_ was the fool, if she thought he could do anything about being in love with Harry, or that she really had no idea what being in love meant and that he’d rather die than let Harry down, but that was the exact moment some kind of commotion happened near the entrance door and they both turned their heads to look at what was going on the other side of the pub.

As if he had heard them talking so vehemently about him and wanted to give his opinion, it was Harry. Harry, who looked very much pissed and like he’d fallen into something very sticky and smelly, if the looks the other patrons were giving him were anything to go by. He managed to make his way over to them and nearly fell twice before reaching the stool next to Draco and slumping onto it.

‘HI, DRACO!’ he shouted, as if Draco wasn’t just right next to him. ‘What are you drinking? I’ll have the same. Is Ginny here? Tell her I’ll have the same.’

‘No, you’re not having the same, Harry, and certainly not in my pub,’ Ginny replied, in a cool voice.

‘Where have you been?’ Draco asked, hoping Ginny’s words hadn’t stolen Harry’s attention away from him entirely.

‘Hog’s Head,’ Harry slurred, almost falling off his seat.

Draco cast a quick Cleaning charm on him and was relieved to see that Harry’s robes weren’t completely beyond repair. He knew they were Harry’s favourite and that he would have been crushed if anything had happened to them.

‘That’s it, Harry. We’re going back to the castle. You’ve got classes first thing tomorrow morning,’ Draco asserted, not feeling drunk any more – or maybe it was just as compared to Harry. ‘Ginny, can we use your Floo? I don’t feel like carrying him all the way to Hogwarts.’

Draco shouldn’t have said the word “Ginny”, because it seemed to have a really bad effect on Harry.

‘GINNY!’ he shouted. ‘GINNY! D’you know it’s been three years today, since you dumped me? Can you believe it? I’d always thought I’d have gotten you back by now.’

‘Okay, Harry, let’s get you to the Floo in one piece,’ Draco said, averting Harry’s attention from Ginny, who had gone quite white. Draco tried to focus on his feeling of told-you-so rather than on the pang of hurt that Harry’s words had placed in his chest.

*  
* *  


Some time later, Draco was in the hall of Harry’s rooms, trying to keep him standing, but not really managing to do so. Harry was much more quiet than he’d been in the Three Broomsticks, but in addition to be completely plastered, he seemed now quite exhausted, as well. If Draco was to stand still even two more seconds, Harry would be falling asleep on him for sure.

‘Okay, big boy,’ Draco murmured, ‘time to go to sleep.’ Draco eased his grip on Harry and Harry’s head fell into the crook of his neck. Draco could feel Harry’s shallow breath on his skin and decided that Harry wasn’t the only one who ought to be in bed. Draco was in no state to have his dreams and his reality clash together.

He half-carried, half-dragged Harry to his bedroom and let him fall in one big lump onto his bed. Then Draco decided that he really should take him out of his robes, because they were Harry’s favourites and they shouldn’t get rumpled in his sleep. Plus, there was the risk that he’d throw up on them, and _this_ would not be Scourgified easily. Draco’s decision to undress Harry had nothing to do with his wish to have more than a glimpse of naked skin.

He grabbed the hem of Harry’s robes and pulled. Draco wasn’t all that sober, either, so it wasn’t easy, but eventually he managed to ease Harry out of them. Draco looked at him with an accomplished grin on his face, only to realise that Harry had definitely fallen asleep and that he wasn’t able to congratulate him.

Draco leaned over Harry, just to remove his spectacles, and not because he wanted to see those dark eyelashes from a closer point of view or anything. He folded the frames and, when he stretched across the bed to place them on the bedside table, he found himself hovering just above Harry’s face, his lips just above Harry’s lips, with Harry’s breath tracing a straight path from his mouth to Draco’s.

So...Draco kissed him.

He hadn’t intended to and certainly hadn’t planned it but, _God,_ this kiss was good. He could feel Harry’s lips against his, even Harry’s tongue sliding against his. And then Draco was lost. Who would have expected that Harry was such a good kisser; that even in his sleep he could stop Draco’s brain from functioning?

At some point Draco began to feel light-headed and decided he needed to breathe more properly, so he detached his mouth from this oh-so-perfect kiss. And, while he was taking his breath back and wondering what the hell it meant that Harry had snogged him so thoroughly while sleeping, he heard Harry moan something. And then the exact meaning of what Harry had moaned reached his brain and Draco gasped.

How could he have been so stupid? Of course _this_ is what Harry would moan, just after granting Draco’s most secret and deepest wish.

_‘Ginny.’_

__

*  
* *

The next morning was hard. Not just because of the hang-over, but also because Draco hadn’t managed to decide if he wanted to remember the night before for ever and ever or just write it off completely. As a result, all he did was remember every detail and especially the bad ones. Like Ginny. And also Ginny. Not to forget Ginny, of course. And to think that at some point in his life, Draco had actually _liked_ the girl.

But the worst hadn’t come yet, Draco knew it, as he had yet to cross paths with Harry. The question was how forgetful Harry would be? Because it was certainly better for Harry if he didn’t remember what he’d said to Ginny in the Three Broomsticks and it was better for Draco if Harry didn’t remember The Kiss.

But Draco did know Harry well enough and had been drunk with him often enough to know that Harry’s memory was highly selective when plagued with a hangover and that even Trelawney couldn’t predict what he would or wouldn’t remember after a drinking binge.

So, when he got up and went to the Great Hall for breakfast, Draco was rather anxious and attempting to sort out in his head how to determine if Harry remembered what he had done without giving him any clues as to the truth. Maybe Draco should pretend himself not to remember anything from the night? But, what if Harry did recall and became weird around him and Draco wouldn’t have a chance to explain, because he was supposed to have forgotten?

By the time his first class arrived, Draco had managed to work himself in a very alarming frenzy over what he would say to Harry. He then realised that Harry hadn’t actually shown up at breakfast and that he surely wouldn’t, now. Draco was somewhat relieved.

When Harry failed to show up for lunch, either, Draco became angry. Was Harry planning to just avoid him for the rest of his life? Wouldn’t the git at least provide Draco a chance to apologise? Hell, wasn’t _Harry_ supposed to apologise to Draco for moaning a very wrong name? Draco was determined to give him a piece of his mind on the subject, if Harry ever decided to grace the world with his presence again.

When Harry didn’t show up for dinner, Draco worried. Surely if anything was amiss, McGonagall would have told him. He hadn’t heard of Harry missing any of his classes, so he obviously wasn’t bleeding to death alone in his rooms or anywhere else. Harry must not be very hungry that day. At all. And it certainly wasn’t Draco’s fault, was it? Or, maybe Ginny had been right and Harry needed a _friend_ here, in Hogwarts, and not someone who would randomly fall in love with him and kiss him, and now that it was Draco’s case, he’d had no other choice but starve himself to death in response. It all was Draco’s fault if Harry was sad or depressed or on the verge of suicide and if only Draco had managed to keep his kisses to himself, then life would have been able to go on.

Draco was now sweating and McGonagall gave him an odd look from across her plate of shepherd’s pie. ‘Is everything all right, Draco?’ she asked, with that almost-motherly tone she affected with him.

‘Er.’ Draco thought that he could at least be a little more eloquent in front of his peers _._ ‘Have you heard anything about Harry, Professor?’

‘Well, he asked me if he could take a short trip to Hogsmeade during his lunch break and was punctually returned in time for his afternoon lectures. I would guess he’s presently preparing things for this night’s Duel Club.’

Oh, yes, the _Duel Club_. How could have Draco forgotten? Once a month, every month. Ever since Draco had made a joke about their Second year experience of snake-taming, Harry had gotten in his head that Lockhart’s idea of a duelling club hadn’t been a bad idea at all but only very poorly executed. He had obviously been correct in that, given the huge number of students taking part in the club, and Draco loved Harry’s face when he came back from the events. Harry was always so happy, so accomplished, after – just like him being this kind of teacher was everything he’d ever wanted. It was after a particularly exhilarating Duel Club that Harry’s over-joyous smile had planted _bloody butterflies_ in Draco’s stomach for the first time.

So, yeah, Harry wasn’t dining in the Great Hall because he had other important and very normal things to do, and not at all because he was avoiding Draco. Draco’s frustration at not having been able to see Harry all day long felt better in the space of one single blink. Then, immediately after his brain had processed that Harry wasn’t there at lunch because he _took a short trip to Hogsmeade_ , his frustration returned, worse than before. Why, in the name of Merlin’s holy pants, did Harry need to go to Hogsmeade for lunch? What was wrong with good old Hogwarts’s meals? There was nothing wrong; Draco could tell and proceeded to prove it by swallowing a big mouthful of potatoes all at once. He nearly burnt himself but at least he’d proved his point: Hogwarts’s food was fine.

The only reason why Harry would suddenly feel the need to go have lunch in Hogsmeade when he’d been there only the night before was Ginny, of course. Ginny, who, when she’d learned that the Saviour of the Wizarding World still hoped to get her back could do only one thing: blanch. Who in their right mind would go after someone like this?

Draco decided that it wouldn’t do for the Malfoy heir to sulk in public, so he got to his feet and went to his rooms.  
 _  
_

*  
* *

He’d already been sulking for several hours, the wireless playing some Wizarding symphony at the loudest setting possible, when someone knocked on Draco’s door. He tried to ignore it, but _of course_ it had to be Harry and Harry had known the password to Draco’s chambers for a long time (the painted fourteenth century lady guarding them being far from insensible to the Golden Boy’s charms), so Harry just came on in as if he had an official standing invitation – which he _had_ , of course, but it wasn’t the point.

Harry appeared on Draco’s side of the door with an uncomfortable look on his face and, while what Draco wanted to ask was “What are you doing here?”, what he actually said was: ‘Where have you been?’

‘It was Duel Club night. There was a lot of...er, things to prepare for it. The room needed some cleaning and there wasn’t any decent chalk any more and...’  
The dark look Draco gave him silenced Harry at once.

‘That’s not what I was asking,’ Draco answered, sad that Harry hadn’t – or rather wouldn’t – figure it out right away. While Harry didn’t seem to wish to answer the real question, Draco stood up and turned off the wireless. He thought of pouring himself some Firewhisky but it didn’t seem very wise after last night.

It was also very weird how guiltily Harry was behaving and Draco feared very much that his friend remembered everything; that Ginny had allowed Harry back in her bed and that he’d come here to tell Draco that, in such circumstances, they couldn’t continue being friends.

When Draco glanced at Harry again, the man was very fidgety. ‘I went to see Ginny over lunch because I had to ask her something about last night.’

Draco froze. Harry seemed not to be able to look him squarely in the eyes and Draco didn’t know what to do about it. He opened his mouth to say something because, clearly, he had to say _something_ , something that would save them from any blurred memories of the best kiss of Draco’s life, but Harry seemed determined to finish saying what he had to say. ‘Because this morning when I woke up, besides the giant headache, I had one memory of last night. Well, it wasn’t really as much a memory as it was a _feeling_ and I couldn’t place it, and I _had_ to ask her...’

There was no blood left any more in Draco’s body and soon everything else was going to leave him as well. Maybe if Merlin was on his side, Draco would end up in a coma before the end of this conversation. Then Draco realised that Harry had stopped talking and was looking at him thoughtfully and Draco really wanted to hide somewhere very far away.

‘Did you kiss me, last night, Draco?’

Draco felt himself flush just a little at the memory–he was a Malfoy after all–and went immediately on the defensive. ‘I was drunk, maybe more than usually, and you were drunk, too, and I didn’t really want to, but I couldn’t let you ruin your robes and then your mouth was just _there,_ but it’s not like I planned it or anything and...’ Draco was talking very fast but Harry didn’t look as if he were listening. He was just moving slowly, advancing on him and Draco couldn’t move and, after all, he _wanted_ Harry to come closer, right, so why would he even think of moving?

Then, Harry was so close Draco’s brain wouldn’t work any more. Harry slid his hand behind Draco’s neck and before he could even begin to realise what was happening, Harry was kissing him. Again. Voluntarily. And sober. Harry’s lips were so strong and soft and his tongue so powerful, it just forced Draco’s mouth to kiss Harry’s back on its own. Not that Draco would have stopped it anyway, but he just had no longer any control over any part of his body.

When Harry leaned away to take a breath, Draco wanted to ask him what it was all about, but he also didn’t want to ask anything and break the moment. His eyes seemed to have spoken for him, though, because Harry said, very softly, his voice barely over a murmur: ‘I remembered this feeling I got when kissing Ginny. I felt it again last night but stronger. It wasn’t Ginny who’d kissed me though; it was you. This feeling is what I’ve been looking for, for a long time. Now I’ve found it.’ And he kissed Draco again, more forcefully now that he knew there was no way Draco would push him away.

The hand that had originally found its way to Draco’s neck was now in his hair and the other was slowly stroking down Draco’s side, sending shivers to all parts of his body. Draco’s hands were splayed flat on Harry’s chest, slowly making their way to his shoulders. Then, Draco’s body seemed to suddenly realise that it was maybe its only chance to ever _do_ something to Harry, with Harry, and Draco’s hands clenched on those strong shoulders. He started backing Harry to the couch and soon the back of Harry’s knees were hitting the couch’s armrest and he fell onto it, pulling Draco along with him.

Draco’s mouth was now moving down Harry’s throat and his fingers were slowly unclasping his robes. They were good ones once again and Draco’s growing desire surely didn’t justify doing any harm to them. Surely not. When Draco found _the_ spot near the beginning of his collarbone and Harry started making tiny noises of pleasure, Draco revised his judgement on the robes. Who cared what happened to them, really?

After that, Harry got quickly out of his robes and Draco wondered how he hadn’t just been blinded by the beauty of Harry’s naked torso last night. He couldn’t help but touch and lick all skin available. Then Draco found another spot, just on the right side of Harry’s belly button and Harry started to moan in earnest.

Draco was so surprised at how sure his fingers were when he pulled down Harry’s underwear that he gasped. His gasp was interrupted by another gasp when he saw Harry’s cock. He looked up to Harry’s green eyes, piercing him through his glasses and heavy eyelids. Draco didn’t hesitate one bit before engulfing the cock in his mouth and gliding his tongue across the underside of Harry’s prick. He felt every ridge and every detail of the skin on his tongue and he had to grip Harry’s thighs with his hands. He thought his hands were trembling with the pleasure but he quickly realised the tremors were coming from Harry. Draco sucked harder and harder and at the same time he felt light-headed; nothing had ever been so clear.

He felt so alive and so joyous and he knew it only came from the fact that the body against his skin was Harry’s. Harry’s hands came to be buried in his hair and the rhythm of his lips on Harry’s cock synchronised with their gentle strokes. Harry had surely no idea of what he could do to Draco by just allowing him to suck his cock.

Then one of Harry’s hands came down to his cheek and a knuckle started to caress it very softly. Draco was genuinely convinced that he was too far gone to notice anything but Harry’s dick in his mouth, so he paid it no mind. Then, the knuckle seemed to be going faster, but at the same time the cock was beginning to pound much more, so he had to sort out his priorities. It’s only when Harry shouted ‘Draco! I’m gonna...! Don’t you want to...?’ that he realised that nobody had ever swallowed Harry’s come down their throat and that what Harry had been doing with his knuckle was warning him it was going to happen very soon. This made Draco want to swallow everything even more. Plus, it was not as if Draco didn’t notice the impending release all by himself – it was _very_ imminent, indeed. No sooner thought than done and Draco had a mouthful of Essence of Harry. He gulped down everything as suavely as possible and when he returned his attention to Harry’s face, he found the man staring at him in a more-than-quite enthralled way.

Draco got back on his feet, and Harry’s expression made him lunge for the man. He kissed him, full mouth, and noticed only later that it surely was the first time Harry could taste his come in someone else’s mouth. This didn’t seem to bother Harry, who was giving back as much as he got, and Draco knew he couldn’t leave his own cock untouched much longer. He knew what he wanted to do and Harry’s behaviour made him daring. He slid his hand from Harry’s neck to his shoulder to his side, and then to the top of his right buttock and wondered if he’d be able to wait to touch what he really wanted to touch. One of his fingers stretched on the taut skin of Harry’s arse but when it got to his crease, Harry suddenly stopped kissing back.

Draco was suddenly firmly shoved by a hand, the one that was one second before playing with his nipple, and the eyes, now staring at him, didn’t look that content any more. In his shock, Draco had left his wandering finger where it was and Harry made a show of pulling it far away from his arse.

‘You don’t touch me there, okay?’ he said in a stiff voice. ‘Not there. Not ever.’ His harsh tone made Draco’s erection deflate quite a bit.

Draco could have dealt with an “I’m not quite ready for that”, or even an “I’d rather do that to _your_ oh-so-gorgeous butt”, but this coldness was just bad. It was even worse that he couldn’t identify where it was coming from. He would have liked it to be simply vulnerability and a way Harry was protecting a zone never touched before, but Draco knew Harry’s vulnerabilities and he was well aware that _this_ was not the way it usually showed. Draco would even have liked better outright disgust over the idea of putting anything there. How Harry had just been was simply _mean_.

Draco rose up again, trying to stand without shaking, and watched a naked Harry sitting up and pulling up his boxers. The mood was definitely killed and Draco didn’t even know why.

‘So that’s it, then?’ he asked, in a small voice. ‘I’m just good for making you _feel things_ when kissing and for sucking your cock, but nothing else.’ He didn’t even try to hide his extreme bitterness. ‘Is that because _Ginny_ wouldn’t have wanted to touch you there?’ He spat the name with as much venom as he could. ‘Surely you can do anything with me as long as you can close your eyes and imagine you’re with _her_. You have to know that I’m not “just Ginny but as a guy”.’

Draco’s insides ached very much, but there was no way he was going to cry in front of Harry now. And yet, being able to cry in front of him without feeling any shame was one of the reasons which had made Draco love Harry so much in the first place. Draco turned his back to Harry and said, all but murmuring, ‘Leave, now. Please.’

He didn’t stay in the room to check if Harry had heard him. He went to his bedroom in long strides, collapsing on his bed before the door had closed behind him.

*  
* *  


Draco turned and turned and turned and sleep kept on eluding him. He just couldn’t get over it. And he didn’t want to take a Sleeping Draught because he would have to pass the living room and if he could postpone the time he saw his couch again until forever, he would, for sure. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Harry and his enraptured face while they were kissing; every time he opened them he saw Harry’s hard expression when he’d pushed Draco away. The memory of the latter kept him from enjoying the former.

He couldn’t read. He couldn’t get out of bed and write his correspondence. He couldn’t do anything else than sweat between his sheets, tangle them up, straighten them out and then do it all over again.

And then there was a ray of light within the room. Draco thought first that it was already morning but rapidly realised that the light wasn’t coming from the window, but from the doorway. There was a Harry-shaped shadow appearing in his room and he hoped it wasn’t a nightmare. The door closed again and he heard the sound of Harry’s voice.

‘I’m so sorry, Draco. I didn’t want to play with you, I swear,’ Harry said, in his confession voice. ‘It’s just that what you made me feel when you kissed me that first time was so strong... It was so strong I thought it had been Ginny, but then I realised it was you, and kissing you while awake was even stronger and just _good_. It just made me take this whole new look at myself and at everything I’ve always wanted.’ Harry paused for a long time and at some point during that moment Draco thought he had only imagined Harry coming in his bedroom to apologise in the middle of the night. But then the soft voice filled the room again and Draco knew it couldn’t be anything but real. This Harry was real.

‘I’m not gay, Draco. I can’t be. I want a family. I’ve wanted Ginny for so long I don’t know how to want anything else. She said she couldn’t give me any commitment, any long-lasting anything. She couldn’t give me a family. Can you give me that, Draco? I know you can’t. And I know I can’t give you what you want either because maybe I have these feelings for you, but I’m not gay, I’ve never been, I don’t know how to. I wasn’t able to satisfy Ginny when she can be satisfied with virtually anybody. How can I satisfy you when my sole purpose in life is to build something you can’t build with me? I hadn’t even missed sex so much since I broke up with Ginny. You’ve changed all my world in one night and I’m so afraid you’re gonna change me so that I won’t remember what I wanted in the first place. And if I don’t get that...I know, so deeply and so truly, that I won’t be happy.’

Draco felt his mattress shift and could tell that Harry was sitting at the end of his bed and wasn’t done rambling.

‘I don’t want to have sex with you because if I like it as much as I like your kisses, I won’t ever be able to go without any more, and I wouldn’t be able to bear it. If what I feel for you is so much stronger than what I felt for Ginny, when you leave me it’s going to be even harder than it was with Ginny. I spent one year getting over it and I know I’ll never be _completely_ over it. When you leave me, I won’t have anything any more, because you’re all I’ve got in Hogwarts.’

‘How could I ever leave you?’ Draco asked, in the smallest of voices. But Harry hadn’t heard him and he was explaining everything Draco hadn’t understood so Draco couldn’t interrupt him; he wouldn’t interrupt him.

‘I love Hogwarts and I love that it’s always going to be my home, but I don’t want Hogwarts to be my family. I want children I don’t have to mark grades for and who don’t leave me after seven years. Students are not enough. Teddy is not enough; he’s my godson but he’s so far away and I know I won’t ever be able to have him for keeps. I’m possessive and I won’t be good for you, Draco; I’ll be a wretch most of the time and I’m the clingy type, you know. And I won’t be interesting to be with in bed, you know that, don’t you? Look at how you made me come and I didn’t do anything for you and I didn’t even realise it before I was out in the corridor, trying to convince myself that I should go sleep on it. I don’t know if I can love you as much as you deserve, Draco.’

Harry took a deep breath and Draco knew his speech was over. He also knew that he didn’t want anything else to be over.

‘Come here,’ he said, calmly. Harry got up and stood next to the bed. Draco pulled up a sheet for him to slip under. Harry took off his robes and his boxers and joined Draco in his bed. He was facing him and, even in the dark, Draco could see the whites of his eyes. ‘It’s going to be all right, Harry. I won’t leave you. I’ll give you a family, any way I can; we’ll fight for it, you and me. I only need one thing from you, Harry. One thing and I’ll give you everything you want and more.’

Harry’s body moved closer and it was warm and Harry’s breath was dampening Draco’s cheeks just slightly. Harry had taken off his glasses along with his clothes and it was odd because Draco wished he could have done it himself. Draco shifted his head forward and kissed Harry. Harry kissed him back and it was different from earlier but...exactly the same. ‘I don’t need you to love me as much as you loved Ginny. Just love me for a long time.’

Draco could feel Harry nodding against his cheek. ‘I will. I almost already do.’ Harry whispered in his ear. And Draco wasn’t just sure it was the truth, he _knew_ it.

Harry loved Draco.

No, really.

 

 

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Fin

  


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